


Don't Look Back, You're Not Going That Way

by destimushi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Biting, Blow Jobs, Bossy Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, Creampie, Destiny, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hunter Dean, M/M, Mild Blood, Porn with Feelings, Post-Purgatory, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Benny Lafitte, Top Castiel, Vampire Benny Lafitte, Wake-Up Sex, profoundnet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/pseuds/destimushi
Summary: Benny knows his place when it comes to this relationship. Dean and Castiel share a special bond that leaves no room for anyone else. Benny has come to terms with that; it's what he deserves.Dean and Castiel want Benny to know just how irreplaceable he is. Dean's allergy to words leads down a path of action Benny cannot resist.





	Don't Look Back, You're Not Going That Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollyblue2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyblue2/gifts).



> My first Destiny! As a thankyou for the lovely lovely lovely banner HollyBlue2 made for the #profoundbond Tumblr, we thought what would make a better surprise gift than some Dean/Benny/Castiel smut! Some feels slipped in, because I'm me and I'm hopeless, but rest assured it's mostly all filth haha. 
> 
> A huge thank you from the mod team on the #profoundbond Discord server! Hope you enjoy this!

Warmth is not something Benny’s used to waking up to. Yet, there it is. Warm and wet and fucking incredible. He cracks open an eye and buttery soft light assaults him. For the span of a skipped breath, he panics.

Why’s there light? What in the world’s going on? He’s not burning. At least, not the burning he expects from pesky sunbeams. The sweet scent of vanilla and beeswax. Candles. He sinks into the mattress and breathes out a sigh of relief. Not the sun. But then—  

Benny groans as the heat between his legs becomes all-consuming, and he glances along the plane of his chest to meet glittering green eyes. “Dean?” He frowns, his hips snapping up as sleep makes way for aroused interest. “What— _oh,_ _cher_ _—_ ”

“I hope the wake up call is to your liking.”

Benny’s head snaps toward the door, and he takes in the lithe form leaning against the frame. “Castiel?” Benny manages between soft gasps as Dean swallows his dick to the hilt. Castiel is so fucking gorgeous like that, head tilted, arms crossed, and dark hair messy in that just-rolled-out-of-bed kind of way.

“Good evening.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this but, _damn_ ,” Benny hisses, his fingers slithering through Dean’s short-cropped hair. Dean hums, a happy little sound, and the vibrations shake Benny to the tips of his toes. _Fuck_.

“Just let go,” Castiel’s voice drifts from his left, so close his warm breath tickles the shell of Benny’s ear. It’s uncanny how quiet Castiel is when he wants to be. Even Benny’s enhanced senses can’t keep up half the time. Must be that angel mojo.

Benny’s not sure what to make of this, but Dean’s tongue is doing that thing, and he’s mewling little moans travel down Benny’s cock in teasing waves of pleasure. Castiel murmurs in his ear, thick fingers carding through Benny’s hair as his warm lips dot feather-light kisses along Benny’s jaw and down his neck.

There’s so much going on, too much, and Benny’s lost in a riptide of sensation. He thrusts into Dean’s tight throat and groans as velvet heat envelops him in a tight cocoon. Castiel’s hand traces down Benny’s chest, finds a pert nipple, and the world shrinks as Benny arches off the bed.

He lets go—just as Castiel urged him to—and his eyes screw shut, every muscle locking as he tumbles down the dark abyss of bliss. His orgasm rips through him, and Dean swallows every drop, pretty eyes trained on Benny until he sags into the mattress.

He takes a few erratic heartbeats to collect his wits, and there’s a slight tremor in his hand when he reaches for Dean. “That was a helluva wake up call, Brother.”

Dean smacks his lips and crawls up along Benny’s body, curling up into the space between his arm and chest. He looks up, gem-like eyes gleaming through a fan of thick lashes, and says, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“Oh?”

“Dean took a nap,” Castiel answers as if that explains everything.

Dean kisses along Benny’s chest, tongue flicking around the same nipple Castiel toyed with not so long ago. He shifts in Benny’s loose embrace, swings one leg across his lap, and straddles him between thick thighs. Benny loves it when Dean takes control, when he lets go of his inhibitions and grasps with both hands the thing he wants most.

And right now, it seems, that thing is Benny.

Dean’s tongue licks into Benny’s mouth in earnest strokes. He can taste himself there, beneath the sweetness of Dean’s breath and the heady scent of his arousal. Benny need not check to know Dean’s cock is heavy between his legs, a physical manifestation of Dean’s desire.

“I assume you can guess why we are here,” Castiel says.  

It’s always like this. Dean and Castiel come to Benny together, share their intimate bond with Benny for however long they need him for. Logically, Benny knows he’s not being fair. Dean needs to sleep at night, and Castiel, well, Benny doesn’t know where he stands with the blue-eyed angel.

When Dean turned to him the first night in that godforsaken place, desperate and hurting, Benny saw colour for the first time in a long time. It was mesmerizing, the way Dean’s eyes shined the prettiest shade of green when he came undone beneath Benny under a starless sky.

The colours dimmed when they found Castiel by the river. Benny recognized the way Dean looked at him. Love, unsullied, a profound bond one finds once in a lifetime. There was no place for Benny, but they didn’t cast him out, and Benny took whatever he could. Because the alternative was just too damn bleak.

It’s been a while since they crawled out of that place between heaven and hell, and, much to Benny’s surprise, they kept him. Gave him a place to sleep the slumber of the dead during the day and shared his bed at night before Dean inevitably passed out from pleasure or fatigue or both.

Dean’s nipping kisses bring Benny back to the present, back to the press of Dean’s hard body and his explorative fingers. Castiel perches on the edge of the bed, blue eyes unblinking as he watches. He does that a lot, just sitting and watching. It used to weird Benny out, but now, now it’s all part of the foreplay.

Dean napping means he wants to go all night, and Benny will never deny Dean anything. He steals a glance at Castiel and smirks against Dean’s mouth. Castiel’s lost his shirt when Benny wasn’t looking, and heat pools in Benny’s gut at the expanse of Castiel’s naked chest.

Castiel is striking where Dean’s beautiful. Two sides of the same glorious coin, and Benny doesn’t deserve them. But he’s nothing if not pragmatic, and he’s learned to never look a gift horse in the mouth lest it bites him.

“You gonna fuck me up tonight, or you just gonna sit there thinking your deep, vampiric thoughts?” Dean bites Benny’s jaw, the pain just this side of too much, and Benny laughs.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No, not really.” Dean grins and kisses along the curve of Benny’s neck, teeth sinking into flesh, drawing blood.

Benny hisses, gums tingling as he resists the siren call to feed. Instead, he darts out his tongue to sample the air. Dean’s arousal is musky, with an underlying note of sweetness that surprises Benny every time. Castiel smells so faint, so angelic, so clean, but together, they make the perfect heady cocktail that leaves Benny _wanting._

With a growl, he grabs Dean by the arms and yanks him up for a kiss. Kissing Dean is one of Benny’s favourite things. Dean’s so responsive, and he fucking comes alive beneath Benny’s fingers and tongue. Without missing a beat, Dean lunges for Benny’s mouth, lips parted, tongue probing and prodding until Benny gives him what he wants.

It’s sweet, just like everything else about Dean, and then the metallic tang of blood fills Benny’s mouth. He moans despite himself and sucks on Dean’s lip like a man drowning. Dean fucking Winchester knows just how to get Benny going.

Warmth spreads from his gut, a tingling sensation that reaches to his fingertips, and Benny loses himself in the flood of blood coating his mouth. It’s so unfair, how well Dean knows him, knows just how to push his buttons. He cracks open an eye and looks to the edge of the bed, and the breath freezes in his lungs.

Castiel has gotten comfortable, and one large hand wraps around his thick cock, stroking with a lazy flick of wrist, as he watches Dean assault Benny’s mouth. There’s something in the way Castiel’s looking at him— _them_ —that gives Benny pause, but Dean’s fingers are in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and Benny loses his train of thought.

A bottle of lube appears in Benny’s hand, and he doesn’t ask how it got there. A voice screams in the back of his head, as if trying to warn him of the desperate way Dean’s hip grind into him, but he doesn’t dare pick at that thought, doesn’t dare dwell on it for too long in case he starts to question this. Them.

“Fuck,” Dean gasps into his mouth and pulls back, and the thinning halos of his perfect green eyes pin him to the bed. “Need you. In me.”

Benny nods, darts in to lick the bead of blood from the apex of Dean’s lip, and squirts ample lube on two fingers before reaching between Dean’s splayed legs. He circles the ring of muscle, teases the edge with a scrape of fingernail that sends Dean gasping. Dean’s so sensitive, and Benny wants to drag out every little moan from him, wants to render him beyond speech. One finger breaches Dean’s body, and the heat of if drags a groan from Benny as he pushes to the first knuckle.

“God,” Dean gasps against the crook of Benny’s neck. “So fucking thick.”

“Like it?”

“You know I do.”

The warmth of another hand startles him, and he looks up to find Castiel behind Dean, his sharp blue eyes locked on Benny. Castiel’s finger slides against Benny’s, more lube, so much lube, and it slips inside Dean with ease. Benny inhales sharply, and the look on Dean’s face traps the air in his lungs.

So goddamn beautiful.

Benny slips a second finger into Dean’s tight heat. Castiel pulls back and slips in another of his own, and Dean cries out with the sudden stretch. “F-fuck, assholes, this is not a competition.”

“But you like the burn,” Castiel whispers in Dean’s ear, but his eyes are glued to Benny as he pulls the shell of Dean’s ear between his lips.

Dean keens, his hips pushing as if seeking more even as his breath hitches with every shift. Benny’s fingers tangle with Castiel’s, thrusting, twisting, pulling in opposite directions, reducing Dean to a whimpering mess as his nails dig into Benny’s shoulders.

Castiel rarely joins in so early, and he’s never gotten _this_ involved. Benny’s face must be doing something, because Castiel grins knowingly before pulling his fingers out of Dean. “He’s ready.”

Without waiting for a response, Castiel grips Dean’s hips and lines him up with Benny’s cock, and with infinite care, pushes Dean down. Dean’s so slick, his hole needy and ready, his body arching as his body stretches around Benny.

“Oh, _cher_ ,” Benny moans, and he clutches Dean to his chest and breathes in the fresh scent of Dean’s shampoo. His hips snap up, burying himself so deep he forgets for a minute how to breathe.

Movement, and a sweep of a finger sends Benny’s mind reeling. “Castiel?”

“Dean’s not the best with words,” Castiel replies, voice low and husky. Benny doesn’t know what Castiel’s getting at, but he nods and waits despite the squirming body pressed into him. “Especially not when it comes to how he feels. He’s more...a man of action.”

“R-right.” Benny nods, and his nails dig into Dean’s hips when he starts to move.

“We’ve noticed that you seem uncertain sometimes,” Castiel continues and circles the base of Benny’s dick with strong fingers. “That you think we tolerate you.”

Benny thrusts into Dean even as Castiel squeezes his cock, and it’s a sensation Benny can’t describe. Castiel’s words, though, tethers him to the ground, denies him the release of Dean’s body. He thought he’d hidden it well, his insecurities and self-doubt, but it's obvious he's not as good of an actor as he thinks. Maybe this is it, one final fuck before they ask him to leave. Because the last thing they need is a man with enough emotional baggage to sink a ship.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies and tries to hide from Castiel’s piercing gaze.

“We’re not blind,” Dean says against his collarbone.

Castiel strokes Benny’s balls, fingers slick, then traces along his cock and slips inside Dean. Benny’s gasp echos Dean’s, and they both shiver, though, probably for very different reasons. “So, we’re here to show you something—” Castiel’s finger nudges next to Benny’s cock, and together, they fuck into Dean with languid strokes.

A second finger joins the first, and Dean’s shaking in Benny’s arms, his thighs straining as he struggles to hold himself up. Castiel crowds up behind Dean, free arm bracing against the headboard as he slips a third finger beside Benny’s cock. It’s so tight, there’s usually hardly any room even without Castiel’s thick digits joining the party.

Benny stares into Castiel’s lust-blown eyes and sees himself reflected in the inky black pit of arousal. “I—” He starts, then stops and swallows the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know what to say, and the immense pressure around his cock makes it impossible to think.

Castiel pulls his fingers out with a slick twist and captures Benny’s lips in a crushing kiss. Kissing Castiel is always a challenge, a battle of wills until one of them gives into the demanding sweep of the other’s tongue. Tonight, Benny is too confused to fight, so he yields and lets Castiel in with a filthy moan.

Benny’s so focused on the bite of Castiel’s teeth and the taste of Castiel’s mouth he doesn’t feel the nudge of something velvety and hard against his cock until Dean cries out. And he’s shaking like Benny’s never seen before, his nails digging painfully into the meat of Benny’s shoulders.

Pressure. So much pressure. And scorching slide of something thick and hard nudging into a space Benny didn’t think possible. “What—Sweet Jesus—”

Dean pants, sucks in gulps of air, and it’s another few skipped heartbeats before he looks up, his face flushed, his eyes glassy with pained pleasure. “I n-need you, man—”

“Fuck.”

“—need b-both of y-you,” Dean grits and clenches impossibly tight around both dicks.

“Castiel—” Benny gasps and Castiel closes the space between them with another hard, searing kiss. When he pulls back and snaps his hips forward, Benny is too light headed to argue. Too far gone to make up excuses why Dean would say he needs him.

“I need you,” Castiel grunts with another thrust, “because he needs you. Love you because he loves you. At least that’s how it started.”

How Castiel can even talk right now is beyond Benny as jolts of pleasure zap along his spine and across his skin.         

“But you’re more than that, to him”—Castiel nibbles Dean’s ear—“to me. To us. We miss you when the sun comes up. Can’t wait for the few hours between sundown and Dean's need for sleep.”

Benny squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shuddering breath, and Castiel’s words wrap around him tighter than Dean’s hole around his cock. They squeeze around Benny’s undead heart, and his chest seizes. Castiel rears back, his hands covering Benny’s on either side of Dean’s hips, and thrusts with careful strokes.

“Look at him, Benny.” He does, and Dean looks utterly wrecked. His skin flushes a deep crimson, and the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks pop like stars. “I can’t give him that by myself. You’re not going anywhere, not unless you want to.”

Benny pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it until he tastes blood. Fuck. This is happening. Dean taking them both, and Castiel, Castiel finding every one of Benny’s fears and squashing them with the same efficiency he does everything else.

The slide of his cock is distracting, but eventually Benny finds himself and thrusts with care. Dean flinches, his eyes bugging as he shouts in surprise. Benny grins, lines up his next thrust to match Castiel’s, and Dean’s breathless whimpers and cries bounce off the walls.

Benny can’t think, but perhaps that’s not a bad thing as he loses himself in the heat of Dean’s body, loses himself beneath the weight of Castiel’s solid gaze. Dean needs him, and Castiel needs him, and maybe, maybe, with the slide of Dean’s sweat-soaked skin and Castiel’s rock hard cock alongside his, Benny allows himself to indulge. To believe that he belongs.

Dean arches into him, his cock sliding between their bodies, his mouth slack, tongue and teeth and lips hot against Benny’s skin. And he’s absolutely, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to Benny.

Dean Winchester runs through Benny like a forest fire. And Castiel is the cooling balm that soothes the burns. And maybe, together, they will hold each other up.

Benny lasts the longest, having already busted down Dean’s throat once. Castiel tips over the edge, his pleasure trickling down Benny’s balls, then Dean comes undone between them. Body a beautiful arc of perfection.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s everything Benny wanted but never dared to reach out and take. Castiel slumps on top of Dean, crushing Dean into Benny’s chest, and the weight is...right.

Benny comes to the caress of Dean’s lips and Castiel’s fingers carding through his hair. He sinks into the mattress, the weight of his boyfriends a solid comfort on top of him.

“I hope you’re not done just yet,” Dean murmurs, and Benny feels the curl of those perfect lips against his chest.

“No, Brother”—Benny plants a kiss on Dean’s forehead, then Castiel’s cheek—“the night is still young.”

 


End file.
